


Hard candy

by Falconette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A romantic encounter between you and Marco, far from prying eyes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard candy

**Hard candy**  
  
  
Sneaking out behind the stables and kissing with Marco in the comfortable gloom of the confined space you managed to find and keeping it your little secret became welcome a distraction from the horrors that lurked behind the walls. You have spent hours there, talking, touching laughing together, amounted minutes stolen away from your chores, from your sleep and your training. Your thoughts were constantly with him anyway, so you were restless whenever you were apart. Fleeting glances at each other that you managed to sneak during the day, just long enough to make an eye contact and an acknowledging smile, and lonesome nights when you both lied awake, but separated, longing to be next to the other, only made the moments you shared together so much more precious.  
  
As you entered your secret hideout today, he was already there, with his hands behind his back and an enigmatic smile on his face. Seeing him stand before you, you once again had to pause and admire his effortless and open beauty he was unaware of.   
  
“You’re late.” he said, already stepping up and embracing you. His arms, muscled and trained, were weapons honed for the sole purpose of killing, but you could never tell that when he held you and gently rocked you in them.  
  
“The trainer made me do an extra round.” you explained with a hint of remorse, entwining your arms around him, “He said I have been slacking off lately.”  
  
“Have you been?” Marco asked with good-humored curiosity, pulling away so he could look you in the eyes. His big, brown orbs seemed to melt into yours in the calm and nonjudgmental manner that was his second nature, waiting for your reply. No wonder they kept you awake at night.   
  
“Maybe.” you shrugged and added more quietly, as he continued to look at you, “Probably.” You didn’t want him to start thinking less of you and your capabilities as a squad comrade.  
  
“So have I.” his smile broadened as his eyebrows arched into expression of embarrassment, “I sparred with Berthold today and got beaten seven times in a row. Seven! By the time we finished the drill, the poor guy was afraid to swing at me in fear he will take my head off.” He reminisced and chuckled, shaking his head.    
  
“Berthold is pretty good, I hear.” you said softly, brushing away dark bangs from his eyes just to discover a bump starting to grow on his forehead, a keepsake of today’s practice session, “And lanky.”  
  
“Hey, I am no dog food myself! He may be lanky but I am quicker.” he got serious and instinctively puffed out his chest, so you had to laugh because it wasn’t like Marco to brag. “Usually.” he added, flushing when seeing your reaction, and then laughed with you.  
  
“I’ve become such a klutz lately.” he grumbled more quietly, moving his mouth to your ear, brushing your earlobe with his lips. “I think the boys are staring to suspect about us.”  
  
“Is that a problem?” you squirmed in his arms, unsure what he was getting at.   
  
“Well, maybe.” his breath was hot in your ear, his tone disturbingly serious. You tensed against his chest. “You see, I have a reason to believe that Thomas has a crush on you and if he found out that I could kiss you like this,“ his mouth was on your temple, lingering there just long enough to place the gentlest peck there, “or like this,” his lips found yours in one brash movement, sinking in your tender flesh, “I don’t think he would approve it at all. He might even stop talking to me.”  
  
“I thought you were serious!” you protested, half angrily, half relieved, tearing away from him, „I thought we were in trouble!”  
  
“Hey, don’t brush off a thing like that lightly!” your secret shelter was ringing with Marco’s laugher. He had his palms raised between you two in a feigned defensive gesture. “He might even challenge me to a duel.”  
  
“Well, lucky for us, your score is ranking higher than his so it shouldn’t be a problem.” you stuck out your tongue at him. “Plus, you are quicker. Usually.”  
  
“Always quick enough to defend my lady’s honor.” Marco jokingly fell to one knee and, in midst of a flourish bow, he took your hand and brought your fingers to his lips. You blushed despite yourself and laughed with him, appreciating the view of his muscular shoulders and broad back that arched before you.   
  
“I have a surprise for you today.” still on one knee, he smiled and resumed the enigmatic look he had when you entered. Under the dark eyebrows, his eyes glistened with a mischievous shine. “Close your eyes.”  
  
You obeyed, feeling him raise and stand before you, hearing him fidget for a moment. Then you felt a finger brush against your lower lip, from one corner of your mouth to another, leaving a warm residue and a pleasant, succulent smell.  
  
“Come on,” his voice was soft and close, “try it.”  
  
Tentatively, your tongue tested the sticky substance, bringing it inside your mouth. A sensation of immense sweetness overwhelmed you and your eyes opened wide. You weren’t used to luxuries such as sweets in the army and the best you could hope for was a ration of dried fruit now and then. But this was something far better and harder to obtain.  
  
“Honey!” with exhilaration, you recognized the taste after all these years.  
  
“Yea, honey.” Marco grinned widely and produced a small jar filled with dark mass. “I remembered how you said you missed cakes and sweets, so I got it when we went replenishing the garrison’s stocks last week. It’s not much, though…“ He shrugged and inspected the tiny jar between his fingers with a saddened expression.  
  
“Where did you get the money for…?” such luxuries were notoriously expensive and you knew the only income Marco had was meager payment you got as trainees that often didn’t suffice even for the barest personal needs. Also, he had been sending money to his parents, since his siblings were still too young to pull their own weight. You could only guess how many hard-earned coins Marco had to give for such a useless trifle, just to humor your whim.  
  
“I didn’t want it!” you shouted, thinking of the meat or warmer garments he could have bought for himself with the money. The sweetness now stung on your tongue, turning the sugar into bitterness.  
  
He backed away, a look of dismay twisting his features, “Don’t be mad, I just wanted to surprise you.” He cast a sideways, somber glance at the jar and quietly added, “I thought you’d be happy.”  
  
Your hand cupped his cheek and his gaze turned back to you, a hurtful shade in it not escaping you, “I am happy. It’s just… too much.”  
  
“It is not too much if it’s for you.” he said as if justifying himself, angry that you would even question a thing like that. “I am free to do as I wish with my money.” he reminded you in a somber, no-nonsense tone, trying to sound as mature as possible and your anger melted into nothing.   
  
“Did you even try it?” you asked, taking the jar from his hand and opening the lid.  
  
Marco shook his head silently, transforming again into a hesitant boy. “It is for you.”  
  
You dipped your fingertips in the sticky mass and, ignoring his protests, smudged it across his lips and chin. His eyes widened in a surprise when your lips followed and diligently began cleaning up the mess your fingers made, but then he closed them, caught your fleeting tongue and entwined it with his, pulling it inside his mouth.  
  
His jaw worked beneath your hands, moving his mouth and tongue in a slow then fierce dance with yours, your nails feeling tendons and muscles of his neck and shoulders knot and unknot though the motions. You ran your fingers across his bristly undercut that sensually tickled your skin and dug them into his dark brown tresses, relishing in their softness. He liked kisses to be long and deep, giving in completely to the exhilarating sensation that grew like a friction between you two.  
  
“It really is good.” he admitted after there was nothing more between you two but your hot saliva, looking at you dreamily. “I cannot remember the last time I tasted something so sweet. Well, present company excluded.” Ha added quickly, brushing his hand alongside your neck and sliding it around your waist, pulling you in and claiming you protectively.  
  
“Marco,” you smiled and kissed his chin, moving up to the freckled cheeks that gave him that irresistible, boyish look, “did you shower after the sparring drill?”  
  
“Of course.” he said confusedly, then moved away in bewilderment, “Don’t tell me I reek?”  
  
“Far from it.” it was your turn to enigmatically smile and take a step back. Marco’s perplexed gaze followed you as you sank to your knees and started to unbuckle his belt clasp.  
  
“What are you doing?” his voice had a trace of panic in it, but he didn’t back away.  
  
“Well, there is a gift I have been meaning to give you too.” you looked up and met his eyes. His cheeks burned in embarrassment and anticipation as you added, “Today seems like a good occasion.”   
  
When you let his pants slide down his thighs, his cock sprang out almost hitting you across the nose. You knew he was aroused, feeling his bump rub against you when you were kissing, but had no idea he was this ready. This was the first time you had a good look at him, since your games usually took place in darkness and in clumsy haste and you were astounded how burly his manhood seemed up close.   
  
“Please, don’t stare like that!” Marco’s thin voice from somewhere above interrupted you in doing just that. He was looking at you pleadingly, in obvious discomfort, helpless to move away even if he wanted to since his crumpled pants were preventing him to take a single step.  
  
“Sorry,” you automatically responded, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks to match the color of his. You took his shaft, which was deflating visibly, between your fingers and then slowly and tentatively fitted it inside your mouth.  
  
“Ahhh…” when he was fully inside your warm mouth, Marco’s sigh was only half pleasure. The other half was distress. “Are you sure about this?”  
  
You freed your mouth to answer, “Yes. And I can tell you like it too.” The penis in your hand was throbbing in its full length again, as hard as a sword hilt. Marco stared at his betraying member, then his eyes shifted to yours apologetically.   
  
“I cannot really lie to you in this position, can I?” he gave you a strained smile and you began working your tongue again, erasing all expressions from his face apart from pleasure that bordered with ache. You smacked your lips across his flesh and ran your tongue alongside its length, feeling his body respond to your caresses. Involuntary, suppressed moans that escaped his lips assured you were on the right track, so you pressed on, cupping his scrotum and gently squeezing.  
  
“Mmmm, that is good…” Marco began to loosen up and enjoy the attention. He leaned against the wooden wall because his concentration was rapidly narrowing to a single point. His fingers got entangled into locks of your hair, keeping it from your face, and caressed the sides of your face. When you looked up, he wore an expression of a peaceful expectation, almost angelic, breathing deeply through his mouth.  
  
“Marco, are you there?” a sharp voice came from outside the boards Marco was leaning against. His eyes went wide in terror.  
  
“Oh, fuck!” he moaned from deep in his throat, “It’s Jean.”  
  
“Marco!” persistent knocking came just a little bit to the left from Marco’s head and he flinched, his hands attempting to still the movements of your head but you shook them off.   
  
“Get lost Jean!” Marco growled then held his breath, because your lips were hastening up the tempo. “I’m busy!” He shouted between two sighs and urgently whispered to you, “Stop, for heaven’s sake!”  
  
You gave him an impish smile and brought up another hand to help you with massaging of his inner thighs, feeling the tenseness in his muscles and his resolve literally dissolve beneath your fingers. Marco shot you a pleading look but had to look away, biting his lower lip, when your fingers disappeared into the honey jar and came out dripping the sticky mess all over his cock and your tongue.  
  
“Busy with what?” Jean’s voice was closer to the wall now, he may have even had an ear pressed to the board and only centimeters of wood separated him from Marco’s back. “We have to report for the sentry duty.”  
  
“Busy with things!” Marco shot back at Jean, pressing the back of his head against the wall and painfully squeezing his eyelids as your tongue mischievously danced over and around the sensitive tip of his shaft. “I will be there… shortly…!”  
  
You sucked at his cock hard, lubricated by the sweet honey, and Marco clasped both hands across his mouth, unable to contain himself any longer. His heart was pounding so hard you thought Jean will hear it through the wall.  
  
“Oh, I see.” you could picture a snicker of realization on Jean’s face. “Well, report to the commander when you won’t have your hands full of ‘things’ anymore.” He pointedly whistled a cheerful tune that waned as he walked away.  
  
You managed a smile without missing a beat, when you heard Marco’s soft, tormented voice from above your head.  
  
“It is… too late…” he thinly squeezed through rigid fingers and before you knew what was happening, a salty warmness mixed with the sticky sweetness on honey in your mouth. He slowly slid down the wall and rested with his knees hitched up and wide, the flustered, freckled face gazing at you between them. His brown eyes were wide and moist, his expression repentant.  
  
“I am sorry.” his fingers still half covered his mouth, so he mumbled the words out, staring at you like he was caught committing a particularly villainous deed. “It was too intense, I didn’t have the time to warn you.” he said softly, desperately sweeping his eyes across your face for a reaction.  
  
You leaned in and kissed him, calming the flutters in his chest, sharing the last of the sweet residue from your tongue. His lips needed no sweetening though; they swelled with blood like ripe cherries, still hot and trembling from his climax, calling you to tenderly test them with your teeth.   
  
“Are you kidding?” you breathed when your lips separated for a moment, looking into his dark and gentle eyes, “I would choose you over honey any time.”

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Marco is such a sweet thing, isn't he? :)


End file.
